


Spade Fucker

by Azelto



Category: Deltarune (Video Game)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Body Worship, King is Thicc, M/M, Thighs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 14:30:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16662657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azelto/pseuds/Azelto
Summary: After he turns eighteen, Kris returns to the Dark World to teach King a lesson





	Spade Fucker

_ Dear Kris, _

_ In the five years since you saved our kingdom, we have been unable to reason with the King while he has been imprisoned. Lancer and I have tried everything to help him become a better person, and yet he still retains his evil ways. I have always believed that it is wrong to imprison another person for life, and yet I fear that this may be the only way to keep the Dark World safe. And so I am asking you ask a last resort if you have any ideas of ways that we can help him. I will never forget how you saved all of us, and we are eternally in your debt. _

_ Yours, _

_ Ralsei _

Kris read the letter three times before it sunk in that his adventure with Susie five years ago hadn’t just been a hallucination. So Ralsei, Lancer and the king had been real, after all. He had discovered the letter tucked in amongst the presents that he found in the sitting room on the morning of his eighteenth birthday. And by coincidence, his old middle school was having a reunion the very next day. Was there a chance that he would be able to sneak into the storage closet and find his way back to the Dark World?

* * *

 

It turned out that doing so was much easier than he had anticipated. The party was dull and boring, and most of the alumni who attended didn’t remember him anyway, or if they did they didn’t have much to say to him.

On the way to the storage closet Kris found a feather lying on the floor. It was sky blue in colour and looked like the sort of thing that the kids in the school would use for a craft project. Without really knowing why he was doing so, he picked it up and put it in his pocket. 

Somehow he wasn’t all that surprised that the closet door was open. He crept inside and was at once reunited with all of his old memories.

* * *

 

“So, um… I’m sure you remember the Dungeon.” Ralsei said as the two of them descended in the lift. Kris’s welcome party at the castle had been much more enjoyable, but now it was time that he got down to business. “That’s where he’s kept. He’s the only person down there now.”

A  _ ding! _ sounded and the lift doors slid open, revealing the slimy blue-grey walls of the dungeon. An all too familiar scent of mold and stagnation drifted inside.

“It’s the last door on the right,” Said Ralsei. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

Ralsei led Kris past several empty cells, until they came to a heavy iron door with a large keyhole in the centre. From his pocket, Ralsei took out an equally large key.

“What if he escapes while you’re opening the door?” Kris asked.

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about that,” Ralsei inserted the key into the hole and began to turn it. “He’s chained up. That’s what we have to do when someone goes to talk to him.”

_ Chained up. _ For some reason, the thought sent a shiver through Kris’s body. In History class at school he had learned about how prisoners had been tortured in dungeons. But he had been invited here to reform the King using kindness.  _ Torturing with kindness. _ Now that was an interesting idea.

And then in a split second, he knew what he was supposed to do. It was a little…  _ unconventional _ , but in the five years since his adventures in the Darkner’s world, Kris had been changed in multiple ways.

“Ralsei,” he said, “if you could… if you could leave me, so I could go in by myself, would that be OK?”

“Are you sure you’ll be all right?”

“I’m sure, don’t worry. I know what I’m supposed to do. And I have to do it alone.”

“Well, if that’s what you feel would be best, then I can’t stop you. And in all honesty I do feel pretty uncomfortable when I go in this cell.”

And that was how Kris found himself alone in the cell, facing the King of Spades. The King was lying chained to a bed in the centre, on display to be used however Kris saw fit.

Clearing his throat, Kris started to speak. He had used words to convince the King’s servants so many times that now they came easily to him.

“You must be so bored, having been kept in here for five years,” He said. “Surely you must be missing so many of life’s pleasures.”

“Let me guess, you’ve come here to try and reform me, after Ralsei and my idiot son failed,” The King said. His voice was as deep and as rich as Kris had remembered. “And I can tell you now that that’s not going to work. You really think you can change someone with words alone? That’s the most foolish thing I have ever heard.”

“No, not words,” Kris felt in his pocket and found the feather. He paused, then said, “Lancer is your son, there’s no doubt about that. But do you remember his conception?”

For a split second, King’s eyes widened. Then his expression turned to its usual sneer. “That’s none of your business.”

“But do you remember how it felt? I’m sure it must have been wonderful. And it’s been such a long time since you’ve experienced anything like it, only being able to get yourself off. So if you would like, I can give you something. I can give you…  _ pleasure _ .”

King’s muscles seized up. Kris could tell that being kept in the dungeon for so long must have made him desperate.

“Here’s the deal,” Kris continued, “I give you pleasure, as much as you could possibly need. But I don’t want you to tell Lancer or Ralsei or anyone else about this. It’ll be our little secret. How does that sound?”

For a long time, King said nothing. But Kris could see the bulge growing in between King’s legs. A bulge that King had had nobody else but himself to satisfy for the past five years. Then at last, King let a loud sigh out of his nostrils. “Fine,” he said. “But don’t think this is going to reform me. I’ll still be the same as I am now, no matter what you do to me.”

“That’s all right,” Kris placed a hand on one of King’s thighs. “Let’s just say that this’ll be a favour for both of us.”

Without saying anything more, Kris began to stroke King’s thigh with his hand. It was thick, chunky. It must feel good to bite.

“What are you, a prude?” King said. “Go ahead and take my clothes off. You want to make me feel good, don’t you?”

Not needing any further encouragement, Kris reached up to King’s chest and pulled his suit all the way down so that it hung around the ends of his legs. The sight of King’s body beneath it was almost too erotic for him to take in all in one go. So he took a deep breath and started with King’s thighs.

They were blue, and thicker than the width of Kris’s body. With both hands he squeezed the right one, then the left, then began to knead one thigh with each hand. He noticed that they were almost entirely covered with dark blue stretch marks. Kris traced the stretch marks with his index fingers, then leaned over to trace them with his tongue.

All the while King was letting out heavy pants, trying hard to suppress the moans that needed to escape his throat after being denied pleasure for so long. Kris made it his goal to be able to make King lose control of these moans.

Kris sucked on King’s thighs, leaving a trail of blue bruises along the skin. He then took greedy bites, digging his teeth in hard enough to leave a mark and to make King stifle a gasp. There appeared to be a lot of fat on King’s thighs, enough to make them pleasantly squishy. He must be pretty well-fed down here for to be able to retain so much fat, but Kris wasn’t complaining at all. He gorged on them, nibbling and sucking away with the shameless decadence of a royal at a banquet. When he had made his offer Kris hadn’t planned to spend so much time working on King’s thighs. But now he was unable to get over how thick, how round, how  _ gelatinous _ they were.

Standing back up at last, Kris surveyed his work. King’s thighs were now covered in bites and bruises. Perhaps if his friends let him, he could keep coming back to ruin King’s thighs like this, so that their skin would never be clear again.

Reaching both his hands up, he slapped King’s thighs, feeling like a parent punishing a disobedient child. And they wobbled with the same consistency as a huge blue jelly. He continued to slap them, again and again and again, watching them wobble with awed fascination. After just a few minutes, they were covered with dark blue handprints.

Under his suit King wore a pair of navy briefs, but Kris wanted to save those for later. Now he focused on King’s stomach, which was also had a network of stretch marks crossing it.

Leaning forward again, Kris faced King’s stomach mouth and puckered his lips. Understanding what he wanted, King puckered his stomach lips and then the two of them were kissing. It wasn’t long before Kris’s tongue invaded King’s stomach, meeting King’s own tongue and licking it, mixing their saliva until neither of them could tell whose fluids were whose.

Still keeping his lips locked with King’s, Kris grasped King’s stomach with his hands and began to squeeze it. It was even more squashable than King’s thighs. Next time he came here, Kris thought, he’d like to bring some food that he could shove down King’s throat to make him even bigger. His fingernails dug into King’s flesh, and was that -? Kris could have sworn he heard King let out a tiny moan in response.

With a gasp Kris pulled away from the kiss, unable to hold his breath any longer. Now he surveyed King’s chest, and his indigo nipples that were now hard with arousal. King also had a large mole no more than a quarter of an inch about his right nipple. It was dark brown, the colour of chocolate.

Kris used the lightest of touches to flick King’s nipples, his fingers ghosting over them, teasing him with pleasure that King could have but wasn’t being given.

“How are you feeling now, King?” Kris teased.

King said nothing, only let out a low growl. Kris could tell that he didn’t want to admit how good he was making him feel. Yet he must also be aware of how low he was stooping to ask the boy who had defeated him in battle to satisfy his needs.

“You want more?” Kris moved the teats of King’s nipples with the tips of his fingers.

“Of course I do,” King said. “Give it to me now, or else I’ll tell my son what you’re doing to me.”

Unperturbed by the threat, Kris took hold of King’s pectorals in his hands and squeezed them. They almost had the same consistency as a woman’s breasts; so fat that he wouldn’t have been surprised if dribbles of milk had started to come out.

Then Kris climbed onto the bed to straddle King, and sucked on his left nipple like a newborn baby. He nibbled on the teat, causing King’s muscles to freeze up, but still no noises escaped either of his mouths. Kris’s tongue covered the nipple in saliva, flicking it and swirling over it with a wet sucking sound. Removing his mouth, he moved on to King’s right nipple, but was distracted in an instant by the bump that he felt against his top lip.

The mole. Out of pure curiosity, Kris felt its texture with is finger. It was not quite smooth, not quite rough. He found he could move it up and down, and squeeze it between his thumb and index finger. Were there any more of them on King’s body? Pulling his lips away from King’s nipple, he sat up and surveyed him.

Near the bottom of King’s neck, in the soft area just above his clavicle, was another mole. Despite it being the same shade of dark brown, this one was flatter and larger than the one above his nipple.

Bending forward, Kris took the mole into his mouth and sucked it, tongue covering it with saliva and the pressure of the suction causing a bruise to form around it. Nibbling on it revealed that it had a springy, almost spongy texture. It tasted of King’s sweat, fleshy and salty and enough to make a shiver run through Kris’s body. If it wasn’t stuck to King’s skin, Kris would have licked it up and swallowed it. King was now taking in deep breaths, and by some instinct Kris could tell that King was close to losing control. All he needed was one final push.

After lifting himself off King’s neck, Kris pulled himself down to King’s crotch, the underwear straining against his massive erection. Kris tugged the cotton briefs down, allowing King to spring free.

He was enormous. Far too big to fit inside any part of Kris. He was the length of Kris’s forearm and the thickness of Kris’s calf. But penetration didn’t matter all that much, as long as King was given release by a person other than himself.

Now Kris reached into his pocket and took out the feather. And with the gentlest of touches, he began to stroke the fold of King’s right thigh. Up and down, as slow and tender as a breeze on a summer day.

King’s thigh began to twitch. Kris heard King swallow. Then the thigh began to twitch even more, wobbling as it did so. And finally King lost control and the thigh was overcome with violent shudders.

“ _ Ohhhhh _ …” King moaned at last, the noise echoing around the cell. “ _ Uh… uhh… uh… can’t… can’t hold on… _ ”

“You don’t have to,” Kris said, his voice level and authoritative now that King was a moaning mess. “You can just let everything out, right now.”

Hips bucking as Kris continued to tease his thigh, King let out his loudest moan yet and a hot, blue liquid shot out of his dick, coating his stomach and his chest.

“There, there,” Kris soothed, kneading King’s dick through his orgasm, “Good boy. Let it all out, just like that.”

If King had had the energy, he would have shouted at Kris, saying how dare he talk to him like he was a child. But once his orgasm was over, all the anger seemed to drain out of his body. He let out a sigh, and felt a wave of exhaustion was over his body.

“So, have you changed your mind yet?” Kris asked. “Or would you be happy for me to keep visiting you, satisfying your desires like this?”

King did not reply, too busy trying to get his breath back to answer. Kris wondered how much of King’s anger had been the result of unfulfilled sexual needs. Perhaps if he could continue dominate him like this, eventually he would come to know his place enough to be reasoned with.

Kris smiled to himself. Their roles had been switched, and now  _ he _ was the one with the power. So long as Lancer ruled the kingdom, Kris was free to use King however he wanted.


End file.
